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To read more than 200 comments...

click on the title of any post, it is a link to a separate page that shows all the comments. Scroll down to the bottom of the comments until you see the words newer and newest next to the number of comments on the right, those words are links that will lead you to a new page of comments. :)

Thursday, July 19, 2018

So I have a new/old source for certain goings on in Africa and the Arab world, including the mideast to Hollywood dancing boy pipeline: this is my most recent twitter follower - a certain senior foreign correspondent, and mideast bureau chief during the aughts. (More than 20% of my high school graduating class went to the same college, including her. [Okay, so it was just two people, out of twelve...] We made the transcon journey together, in her playboy dad's luxury sedan, along with an extremely large trunk full of apparently secret belongings [I wasn't allowed to look inside]. We were denied lodging in Alabama because we weren't married [maybe, I guess, shoulda stopped in Vegas {ironic we were banned from the inn, because, it turned out, a certain law enforcement/judicial convention was taking place, very probably including someone who had been banned from the mall}]. I also learned that the South is full of teen fast food workers very eager to leave [as in: where you guys going? a: *** **** q: can I come? a: no, but thanks] and alligator tastes like an old boot.)

When I get to the college times material, there will likely be a road trip short about that. You can imagine who we met up with in a certain southern college town (the one, I mean, in the peach-themed state), and the story he has to tell. (Spoiler alert: Walter's bbq had closed down.) What happens when we reach our destination? The aforementioned luxury sedan explodes. We should've been inside at the time...

I speak Russian, and sometimes I'll see something in a language that LOOKS similar but isn't the same, like Ukrainian or Bulgarian, and I'll get this weird feeling like "this looks like it should make sense, but it's gibberish." I get that same feeling when I read Dancing Boy blinds.

His most recent twitter follower is a woman who was a Middle East bureau chief during the 2000s, and is/was a senior foreign correspondent. (Since some people here think they know who DB is, it seems like they should be able to spot her in his followers.) She was part of his very small (12) high school class, and went to the same college as he, across the country. They made the trip together in a luxury sedan belonging to her playboy dad, and DB wasn't allowed to look in her luggage.

One inn in Alabama wouldn't let them share a room because they weren't married. There was a law enforcement convention going on at the place, and he thinks it's possible (though irrelevant) that Roy Moore could have been in attendance at the convention. They met teenagers working fast food who yearned to leave for the big city (like you'll find in every small town everywhere and everywhen). They met someone famous who has a story to tell at a college town in Georgia. After they arrived at their destination, the sedan exploded.

Bond, James Bond Jr.No one can stop him but S.C.U.M. always tries,young Bond cuts through each web of spies,he learned the game from his uncle James,now hes heir to the name,James Bond (Bond, James Bond Jr.)

Side note- do not ever get any Cajun or Creole food (not saying gator is strictly Cajun) outside of south Louisiana unless you don't mind crappy food. Depending upon the restaurant, even New Orleans is too far north.

Looking forward to more of The Dancing Boy story. Happy y'all did not get blown up!

"The aforementioned luxury sedan explodes. We should've been inside at the time..."

Understatement of the century.

"When I get to the college times material..." Ugh...this guy and his cliche, lame ass, Fake News, rambling unintelligible "stories". Just stop, man. Nobody gives a shit about your Z list "exploits" and ZZZ list "connections".

That because of the road trip in certain suthun states and because the two of them weren't married getting lodging was difficult, along with the work she does, to the point someone tried to harm them with a car bomb or accident.

Ok guys. I've had a shitty day at work since everyone except me got taken out to lunch by boss. (cause admins don't care about being left alone and hungry for 2 damn hours while the fucking phones ring off the hook! To-go plate of cold tacos and beans don't exactly make up for it..) Anyhow so glad we had a DB blind cause the comments here made me literally LOL and the ones in the back office are clueless! Thank y'all for that! PS AbbyRock's comment about Cajun/Creole food? TRUTH. Raised down in the swamp lands - I know fo'sho'! One asterisk though - Jason's Deli makes the best Muffaletta's outside of NOLA you'll ever get.

@cruzzer2He's been named here a few times, but I would rather not say since he's still a private citizen and uses a pen name professionally. Go to his second blind from January (I think) and scroll waaaaayyyyyy down in the comments. If you want to verify...

Don't think it's Aryn Baker as she became the MidEast Bureau Chief in 2010. Enty says the Mideast Bureau Chief was in the aughts (which means 2000 - 2009). The only other one I can think of is Kimberly Dozier. But, I don't think she fits the blind, either.

Excellent analogy. From what I can tell, this isn’t even a blind. But what the fuck do I know? It’s borderline gibberish. Like schizophrenic stream-of-consciousness word salad. I used to love this site until Dancing Boy, Gabe Hoffman, and the bigots took over.

gator is delicious if it's cooked properly, but i have to stick up for the food experience in the big easy. i'll eat everything from a lucky dog to brennnan's for breakfast and highly recommend y'all try the frozen irish coffee at molly's on the market. laissez les bons temps rouler, y'all.

To the person above who told DB to "go die already", you are a horrible person. Some of us do care about his blinds. If you don't want to read something, don't read it. Simple as that. just move on. No need to be mean.

I don't think there's anything to guess here, except the identity of his friend, which wasn't so much "guessing" as "going to look." These aren't really about guessing. They're autobiographical snippets from someone who was damaged by Hollywood molesters, complete with disjointed streams of consciousness and humble-bragging. That's if they're legit, of course. The purpose of them is still up in the air.

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